


The World in Which You Live

by LeoVixx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff and Angst, HoH/deaf!Keith, Keith paints, M/M, Not quite sure where this is going, Will update tags as things go on, lance plays guitar, possibly smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-23 19:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10726152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoVixx/pseuds/LeoVixx
Summary: This is a HoH/deaf!Keith au. Keith has been struggling for many years to get his life back to some semblance of normalcy after a tragic car accident leaves Keith without his parents and his hearing. Having decided he wants to live as normal a life as he possibly can, Keith decides to go to college to become a graphic designer and this is where he meets Lance. Of course, their relationship doesn't start out the best, with Lance making a total ass of himself, but with some hard work on both their parts, they may be able to not only create a good friendship but maybe even something more than that. But, only if they don't kill each other first.





	1. Different Worlds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the idea to write this fanfic when I stumbled across some art done by galradical on Tumblr. They said they wanted a HoH/deaf Keith au and I thought that I would want one too. So, here we are. I hope you like it and let me know what you think in the comments. All constructive criticism is welcome. 
> 
> Also, do know, I'm not hard of hearing or deaf, so I don't have any real idea what it's like to not be able to hear. This is just my take on what it would be like so let me know if I'm totally wrong and have no idea what I'm talking about. I don't want to offend anyone.

Humans take in their world through they’re five senses. Sight, smell, taste, touch, and hearing. When even one of those senses is gone, either it was never there to begin with or it was taken for one reason or another, a person’s world completely changes. I was born with all five senses and I had them all until I was twelve. Then, when a drunk driver slammed into the front of our car on our way home from the summer vacation before my sixth-grade year, I lost not only my parents but most of my hearing as well.

The doctors told me I was lucky to have survived the crash, it didn’t make me feel any better. They told me there was a chance I could regain most of my hearing, it didn’t make me feel any better. The social worker told me my best friend’s family was willing to take me in and give me a new home, it didn’t make me feel any better. I would learn to live without my hearing, people did it all the time. I wouldn’t, however, learn to live without my family. To this day, there’s still a gaping hole in my heart where my mother and father used to be and nothing, not even the brotherly love and companionship of Shiro can fill that hole, though I know he tries.

The sadness of losing so much and being unable to hear the world around me made me a very introverted person, not that I wasn’t one to begin with, and it just made it harder for me to learn how to interact with my new world. Eventually, the Shirogane's sent me off to a special school for children hard-of-hearing and it was there that I mastered sign language and began to communicate with people again. Though it was still so hard, not everyone knows sign language and reading lips takes years to master, though I’m not bad at it. Shiro was all gung-ho about learning sign language and used every chance he could to practice with me when we both managed to be home at the same time. The world was starting to look a little better and I made the decision to go to a regular high school. I wanted a normal life, at least as normal as I could get it to be to help me forget about my loneliness and grief. I got better at reading lips, that’s for sure. Why does every teenager have to talk so goddamn fast? My anti-social nature didn’t make me very many friends, however, and I spent the majority of my four years of high school by myself in the art room. Art was one thing I didn’t need to hear to be good at.

Four years flew by and I felt like my life was still far from normal. I had no idea what to do with my life after high school. What job could I possibly do with a high school diploma that I didn’t need to be able to hear in order to do? The answer: not a whole lot. And the jobs that fit that criteria were all ones that held absolutely no interest for me. Then Shiro suggested I go on to college and get a degree in art. Maybe be a graphic designer or something. He obviously had more faith in my artistic skills than I did, but it seemed like the better of all my options so I went for it.

Shiro and I ended up at the same University, him two years ahead of me and going for some hard to pronounce degree in business, which meant we never really saw each other much on a day to day basis, but knowing he was there made me feel better. College started out just like high school, lonely and uneventful. Until one asshole guy wandered into the studio I was working in by mistake and all of a sudden, my life wasn’t so lonely and boring anymore. Sigh, I want my peace and quiet back.

~*~

“Dude, Lance. Are you sure you’re in the right building because I don’t see you anywhere?” Hunk’s voice warbled from the speaker in Lance’s phone. Damn old buildings blocking cellphone reception. Frankly, he was surprised the call hadn’t dropped yet.

“I don’t know man. All these old buildings all look the same.” Lance said as he slowly meandered down the hall, looking for anything that looked familiar.

He’d only been in the Langdell Music Hall once and he couldn’t remember exactly where on campus it was. Him, Hunk, and Pidge were set to participate in the end of semester music competition, or ESMC for short, in little under a month and Pidge had suggested that they should practice at least a couple of times in a real recital hall before they get up on stage for the legit thing and be freaked out by the difference in acoustics. He figured they’d be find anyways, but majority vote meant his opinion was noted, probably, but didn’t make much difference in the end.

Being a music major, it would probably make sense that he’d been in the Langdell at least a few times by now, it being the end of spring semester and all, but he’d focused mostly on his gen. eds. fall semester and the few music classes he did take didn’t require him to perform in front of an audience, besides his fellow classmates and professor. Not that he would’ve minded performing for an audience. Lance loved playing for people, to watch as the music he played made them feel deeper emotions than words could ever convey.  

He rounded the corner and his cell finally decided it could hang on to the spotty signal no longer and dropped the call. He swore before stuffing his phone back into his pocket and turning to make back towards the exit. He’d just have to ask someone for directions or call Hunk once he was outside and beg for some assistance. As he was turning, his eye caught the silhouette of a person in one of the open studio doors and he paused. What he saw made his heart clench in his chest and then beat double time as it slammed against his ribs. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and not just the half-finished painting the person was working on, it was gorgeous with all its vibrant reds, yellows, and oranges, especially the reds, But the person was hot as well. Hell, the guy was drop dead gorgeous, although the mullet was a little confusing. Who actually has one of those anymore?

Lance paused in the doorway for a moment, watching in awe as the guy seemed to almost make the scene on the canvas magically come alive a little more each time his brush moved across the canvas. It was mesmerizing, but he didn’t have a lot of time and he was keeping Hunk and Pidge waiting so, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t stay and stare all day. At the art, not the guy. He was totally not staring at some random stranger who just happened to be the hottest person he’d ever seen.

He took a deep breath to try to calm his raging heart and then stepped into the room, knocking on the door as he did so to announce his presence. He’d just ask this guy for directions to Langdell and get his name at the same time and if he’s lucky he’ll get the guy’s number too. Or maybe not. The guy didn’t stop what he was doing, didn’t even glance in Lance’s direction. Rude. So, either the guy was an arrogant prick who was ignoring Lance on purpose or he was concentrating so hard on painting he hadn’t heard Lance knock. He hoped it was the later. Lance cleared his throat rather loudly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in a self-conscious manner. He didn’t like interrupting people who were working on something artistic. Sometimes that energy that just seemed to scream from inside you demanding to be let out into the world only lasted as long as you kept your concentration and the slightest distraction could make it disappear. But Lance was on a mission and he at least wanted the guy’s name, even if he didn’t get directions.

Several seconds passed, the only sound in the room coming from the sound the paint brush made as it slid across the canvas. Okay, so the guy was ignoring him, fine. Lance would just have to make himself impossible to be ignore.

“ _Hello!_ ” Lance practically yelled, drawing out the word in an annoying fashion as he placed one of his hands on his hip, the other coming up to cup his mouth. Watch the guy try to ignore him now.

But that’s what he did. The brush didn’t even falter in the slightest in its activity. It was like the guy couldn’t hear him at all. Okay, plan C. Lance stomped over to the guy and stuck his face right down in-between the canvas and the guy’s face. If he wanted to keep painting, he’d have to at least acknowledge Lance was there first. The guy jerked away from Lance, the brush flying out of his hand and hitting the canvas, yellow smearing into orange, whoops.

“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” The guy yelled a little too loudly, in Lance’s opinion, since his ear was right next to the guy’s face.

“Sorry, dude. You didn’t seem to hear me so I had to get you attention.” Lance said an apologetic smile on his face and his hands up in a pacifying manner.

There was a slight pause before the guy answered. “Don’t just barge into someone’s personal space all of a sudden. Have a little common sense, why don’t you.” A scowl took up a seemingly permanent and common place on the guy’s face. A shame, he looked a lot better when his face was relaxed, but it was Lance’s fault the scowl was there in the first place.

“Listen, I’m sorry about your painting.” Lance said as he gestured towards the ruined canvas. “But, don’t you think it’s kind of rude to ignore people? I mean, I was just trying to get your attention.”

An even longer pause and then a sigh answered him. “Whatever. What do you want?” The guy snapped.

Geeze, shouldn’t an apology be enough? Maybe the painting was for a grade or something. Lance inwardly cringed. He knew he’d be pretty upset too, if someone had ruined sheet music with one of his songs on it. In fact, he’s been down right furious before. But, Hunk had apologized none stop and had baked him his favorite cookies so he eventually forgave him. Even though he had to completely rewrite everything again and the assignment was due the following morning. Not fun.

“Was it for a grade?” Lance asked pointing at the painting again.

The guy’s eyes followed his hand and then snapped back to his face. A long pause and then “No. I was just doing it to pass the time.” Scowl still in place.

“So, it’s really no harm done then, right? You can just paint another.” The confident, easy going smile slipped back onto Lance’s face.

A pause. “What do you want?” The guy asked and it seemed like the glare was even worse than before. Harsh.

Lance rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I’m lost. I need to get to Langdell Hall on south campus, but somehow, I ended up here instead. Can you tell me how to get where I’m going?”

A really long pause. This was just getting ridiculous. “Sorry, go ask someone else.”

 “What? Why? You’re right here!” Lance snapped and took a step in the guy’s direction. He’s really starting to get on my nerves, Lance thought.

“I can’t help you. I don’t know where the music hall is. Go ask someone else.” The reply was tense and was dripping with impatience. So, it seemed Lance wasn’t the only one close to losing his cool.

Hearing that someone else didn’t know where Langdell was made Lance pause. Hunk and Pidge made it seem like everyone knew where the hall was. Especially art students since they were required every year to view some type of art, most students chose to go see a live performance at the music hall since it was free and close by. The only reason Lance didn’t do that was because the liked to go out and watch street performers instead. They always seemed to put more heart and soul into their music. So why has this guy never been to the hall? Does he just not like music?

“I thought pretty much everyone knew where the Langdell was. What, do you not like music or something?”

The guy, who’d been packing up his supplies paused and stared at Lance as he spoke and then said, “I don’t go to Langdell because it would be pointless for me to go. I wouldn’t be able to hear what they were playing anyways. I’m…” a slight pause. “deaf.”

Lance’s mouth dropped open in surprise and he could only stand there in shock as the guy turned away to pack up the rest of his supplies and left, leaving his half-finished, ruined painting on the easel and a very stunned Lance behind. Everything that happened made so much more sense now. The not registering him knocking or yelling, the fact that Lance scared him when he was suddenly in his direct line of sight, the pausing after Lance had spoken. He was probably reading Lance’s lips considering the dude had answered him at all. God, he must look like a total ass.

Lance groaned and turned to leave, but stopped and turned back around. It would be a shame to just leave the painting here to be thrown away. It was so beautiful and even though the guy said he was just doing it to pass the time, it was obvious that he’d put a lot of effort into it. Maybe it could still be salvaged. There didn’t seemed to be a lot of red on the brush when it had hit the canvas, but Lance knew little to nothing about oil paint except what it looked and smelled like, so there was no way he could fix it, but maybe Hunk could. He could fix almost anything if he knew how it worked and Lance vaguely remembers Hunk taking art in high school so he’s probably worked with oil paint before. Okay, so he’d get Hunk to fix the painting and then return it to the guy to finish and apologize profusely for being a complete and totally insensitive ass.

Mind made up, Lance lifted the canvas off the easel, careful not to smear any paint on his clothes. Oil paint does _not_ wash out, and made for the exit. He stopped and groaned. He didn’t get the guy’s name. How the hell was he gonna find the guy again?


	2. Seeing You Apologize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro frowns and gives me his signature dad face. Oh, come on, Keith. You know that guy wasn’t making fun of you right? He was sincerely trying to apologize. Why don’t you just give him a chance?  
> I cross my arms over my chest and huff. Deep down I know I shouldn’t have gotten mad. The guy obviously didn’t know any signs, so that meant he’d purposefully learned how to say sorry just so he could apologize to me in a way he knew I would understand. But, I’d be damned if I admitted that I was wrong so easily. “He’s a jerk. Why do you care?”  
> I talked to him and some of his friends that were there after you stormed out. Lance is actually a pretty nice guy.  
> “Maybe if you look past all that self-righteous attitude he has and that infuriating way he just always assumes he’s right.” This is just making my mood worse.  
> Yeah, well, nobody’s perfect. You’re not the easiest person to get along with either. Anyways, I just wanted to ask you to maybe give the guy another chance. He really wants to make up for how he acted and maybe even get to know you better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you don't get confused. The bolded text is stuff being signed. The Italicized text is text messages. I'll explain a little bit later why Keith chooses to speak to Shiro most of the time instead of sign to him.  
> I hope you enjoy this new chapter and please let me know what you think.  
> Enjoy : )

“Dude, Lance. I don’t know if I can fix this. Oil paint’s tricky to fix, especially when it’s dry. Why didn’t you bring this to me sooner?” Hunk asked as he looked over the painting Lance had ruined. Truthfully, it wasn’t that bad. The area’s that needed to be fixed were rather obvious and there wasn’t too much wrong, but once oil paint dries it becomes twice as hard to remove without stripping away paint that should be left alone.

“I got busy with stuff, okay?” Lance snapped defensively. He’d meant to bring the painting to Hunk nearly a week ago, but he’d been swamped with his part time job and studying for finals that were just around the corner. “Can you at least try to fix it. The guy was gonna throw it away anyways, so it’s not like it’ll be a big deal, even if you make it worse.”

“I’ll try. No promises though.” Hunk hesitantly agrees. He really doesn’t think he’s good enough to fix something so beautiful. “You never did tell me what happened to you on your way to Langdell, other than the fact you got lost, ruined some guy’s painting, and had to ask some scary senior for directions.” Hunk said as he rummaged in his drawers for his old box of art supplies. He never really had a passion for painting, but every once in a great while he’d get the urge to put paint on canvas, so he kept a small stash of oil paint, turpentine, linseed oil, and brushes for such occasions. He found the small bottle of turpentine he keeps inside a zip lock bag. Turpentine is a flammable paint thinner so it’s best kept where it won’t get all over everything.

“Well, you see, I somehow ended up in the art building, you know, the one with all the personal studios in it.” Lance explained as he watched Hunk grab a paper towel, dip his brush in the paint thinner, and very carefully begin to brush off the excess red paint. When the brush became to saturated with color and would begin to smear the red, Hunk would thoroughly wipe the brush off on the paper towel, dip it back in the paint thinner and begin again.

“Oh, I know that building. How did you manage to end up in Kralle Hall? That’s, like, on the other side of campus.” Hunk asked, glancing up from his work.

Lance shrugged. “Tell me about it. It took me forever to get to Langdell.” A thought crossed Lance’s mind as he watched Hunk slowly and meticulously do his work. “Have you been in Kralle? I thought you decided you weren’t taking any art classes in college.”

Hunk blushes and a small smile appeared on his face. “Shay spends a lot of time in Kralle, especially close to the middle and end of semesters when her deadlines are near. I sometimes pick her up for lunch and stuff from there.” Hunk said shyly.

“Aww. You two are just so sweet, you almost give me a cavity every time I see you together.” Lance teased.

Hunk snorted. “Geeze, thanks.”

Lance gave him an encouraging pat on the back. “No problem, best friend. What do you say about pizza for dinner?”

Hunk eyed him suspiciously out of the corner of his eye as he worked. “Only if you’re paying, best friend.”

Lance slapped his hand over his heart and gasped as if Hunk’s words had physically hurt him. “You wound me, Hunk. I would never ask you to do work for me and then ask you to pay for food on top of it.”

Hunk rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother bringing up the time in middle school when Lance convinced Hunk to both their art projects and pay for dinner that night. “No banana peppers.”

Lance smiled. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“No, and I don’t want to ever find out.” Hunk replied as Lance grabbed his phone and dialed the number for their favorite pizza place.

Lance ordered their favorite, meat lovers with extra cheese, and then lapsed into silence as he watched Hunk work. His mind wandered back to that time in the studio, as it had been doing all week, and he blushed. He was still kicking himself for acting the way he did. He was raised better. To not assume that everyone’s circumstances were all the same. People were different and it was important to remember that. He can just imagine the lecture his mama would give him if she’d seen the way he’d acted that day.

Hunk’s voice ripped him out of his thoughts. “You never finished explaining what happened that day.”

“Oh, right. Where was I? I wandered into the building hoping I was in the right place. I was about to walk back out when I saw this really hot guy working in one of the studios and I tried to ask him for directions. The guy didn’t seem to hear me to I may have gotten in his face and made him drop his brush on the painting you’re fixing.” Lance trailed off as he saw Hunk turn and frown at him.

“So you got pissed because the guy was ignoring you because he was working, so you made a jerk move and now _I’m_ the one who has to fix it.” Hunk sighed.  He loved Lance like a brother, but sometimes he really wanted to just smack the guy on the top of the head and tell him to think about things before he acts.

Lance rubbed his neck self-consciously. “Yeah. I would fix it myself but I don’t know how.”

“It’s fine. I don’t really mind. Since you’re buying me pizza and all.” Hunk teased, hoping to bring a smile back onto Lance’s face. It worked.

Lance smiled fondly. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it. Anyways, the guy got angry-“

“I know I would.” Hunk interrupted.

Lance shot him a glare for interrupting and then continued. “The guy got angry and wouldn’t accept my apology. So, we ended up arguing and he left, leaving the painting behind.” Lance purposefully left out the part about the guy being deaf. He felt that was something that he shouldn’t go running his mouth about, and although he trusted Hunk to not go telling everyone who would listen, it wasn’t his place to say anything.

“Yep, totally your fault. Now I see why you’re so desperate to fix this painting. You want to use it to apologize for being a total jerk, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I was a complete and utter jerk. I figured he’d be more likely to forgive me if I bring him his painting all fixed up.”

“You’re gonna say you fixed, aren’t you?” Hunk asked, his tone more bored that annoyed, like he knew Lance would take the credit for his work all along.

“Probably not, but I make no promises.”

Hunk laughed and set down his brush. “It’s finished. What do you think?”

“It looks exactly as it was when he was working on it. Thanks a lot, Hunk.” Lance exclaimed. He sprang to his feet in barely contained excitement. Now all he had to do was find the guy and…

Lance groaned. “I didn’t get his name. How the hell am I gonna find this guy?” He flopped unceremonially onto the couch next to Hunk and put his face in his hands.

“Don’t pout man,” Hunk said, ignoring Lance’s pathetic attempt at denial. “Chances are, that guy uses the same studio for all his work. I know Shay’s made herself an almost literal nest in hers, and even though studios technically belong to no one, it’s pretty much an unspoken rule that once someone claims a studio as their own, people don’t take it. Your best chance at finding this guy is to just keep checking the place where you met. I’m sure he’ll show up sooner or later.”

~*~

Lance, invigorated by Hunk’s encouragement, did exactly what he had suggested and for the next two and a half weeks he went back to that studio, hoping to see that gorgeous guy again. But, luck didn’t seemed to be on his side and every time he went to look, the guy wasn’t there. By the time two weeks had passed, Lance was pretty sure the guy hadn’t been back to the studio at all. A light dusting of dust covered every surface. The studio obviously wasn’t being used. But, now Lance was really in a bind. This was the only place he knew to look, so if the guy wasn’t coming back here anymore, then he was shit out of luck. Even so, he continued to go back for another couple of days in hopes that the guy would return.

It was then that fate smiled upon him. As he was turning to leave for the last time, disappointment plastered across his face, a voice called out to him.

“I’ve seen you come here a lot, but you never actually go in. Are you looking for someone? Because I hate to break it to you, but the guy who used to use this studio officially left. He’s not using it anymore. At least for this semester.” The voice had a British accent and when Lance turned towards it his eyes went wide in surprise. This girl had to one of the prettiest people he’d ever seen. She was probably just as gorgeous as painting guy, as Lance had come to call him, if not more so. She didn’t have a mullet after all.

“Do you know where I might find him? I have a painting I need to give him.” Lance asked. Hope sparking inside him.

“Sure do. He’s a regular at the coffee shop I manage. He comes every Saturday to draw and meet up with another guy.” At that last part, she blushed. Lance wondered if maybe she had a crush on the other guy or something. “Oh, names Allura by the way. How about you?”

“The names Lance. It’s a pleasure to know the name of such a lovely lady.” Lance said his usual swagger and charm slipping easily back into place.

Allura stared at him for a moment, as if she was contemplating whether or not she should turn around and walk away from someone who was such an obvious flirt, but she must have decided against it because she said. “Well then, Lance, how do you know Keith?”

“Keith, that’s his name?”

Allura gave him a suspicious look. Crap, he must seem like some kind of creeper. Stalking around the guys last known location without even knowing his name.

“Sorry, we only met once, and I didn’t get a chance to ask his name. I may have caused him to ruin one of his paintings. I had my friend fix it and I want to get it back to him.” He explained sheepishly.

A dazzling smile split across Allura’s face. “Oh, so that’s what happened to that painting. That was for me, actually. I asked Keith to paint it for me. I just thought he got bored of it and gave up. I’m glad he didn’t. Well, if you want to make amends, just go to Altea Café around noon on Saturday. I’m sure you’ll run into him.” Allura said as she turned and began walking away.

“Thank you.” Lance called after her retreating back, marveling at how long and beautifully white her was.

She smiled devilishly over her should. “Don’t thank me yet.”

Lance frowned. What did that mean. He didn’t waste too much time thinking about it though. He had a time and place. He had hope again. Now to think up a new plan of action.

~*~

“Please,” Lance begged for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I don’t want to go alone. What if the guy doesn’t show and I’m stuck sitting in a coffee shop all along for an hour? That’d just seem weird.”

Pidge gave him a look devoid of sympathy. “People go to cafes alone all the time. No one’s gonna notice you.”

“Please, Pidge. I’ll buy you all the coffee you could possibly drink.” Lance pleaded, laying himself over her lap, effectively cutting off her access to her laptop.

“If you don’t get off my laptop in the next three seconds, you will wake up completely bald tomorrow.” Pidge growled, a dangerous glint entering her eyes. One does not get in the way of pidge and her laptop unless one wants to have something terrible befall them in the near future.

Lance returned to a more normal sitting position and turned to Hunk on his other side. “Hunk, buddy oh pal of mine. You’ll accompany me on my quest, won’t you?”

Hunk was silent for a few seconds and then asked, “If I go, will you buy _me_ all the coffee I can drink too, or is that offer only available for Pidge?”

Lance smiled. “I’ll buy you both as many as you want.”

Hunk nodded. “Okay. I’ll go.”

Lance fist bumped happily and turned hopeful eyes back onto pidge. “Pidge?”

She sighs. “Fine. I’ll go, but don’t come crying to me next week when you’re out of money because you spent it all bribing us with coffee.”

“I’m a responsible adult. I can handle my finances just fine, thank you very much.”

~*~

“I can’t believe you guys managed to order one of everything. Can you actually drink all of this?” Lance whined as he stuck his now empty wallet into his pocket and gestured to the table beside where they were sitting that was covered in cups of coffee.

Pidge glanced up from her laptop and deadpanned, “Don’t underestimate the amount of caffeine my body can ingest. Coffee’s one of the only things that makes me feel human inside.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re a robot. Don’t even bother denying it. I’ve seen you oiling your gears more than a few times.” Lance teased as he sat down next to her at the table. He made sure that they picked a table near the back of the café that would have a view of the entrance, that way he would know right away when Keith arrived. If he ever does. Lance glances nervously down at the time on his phone. Quarter to one. Allura said Keith normally shows up around noon. Lance hopes he’s just running late or something.

Hunk notices Lance checking the time and smiles softly. “He’ll be here. Allura. Her name’s Allura, right? She said Keith comes every Saturday. He’ll show up. I just know it.”

As Hunk said those words, the front door to the café jingled and Lance glanced up and his breath caught in his throat. Keith entered, holding the door open as someone else grabbed it and followed him inside. This person had to be the third most gorgeous person Lance had ever seen. What was up with all the good-looking people hanging around each other? Do they have some type of magnet that attracts each other or something?

Lance hears Allura call to Keith and his companion, Shiro, and he watches as Shiro’s face splits into a wide grin as he waves. He then pats Keith’s shoulder to get his attention and points to where Allura’s smiling and waving at the counter. Keith gives her a small smile and wave as he approaches. Lance doesn’t hear what he says to her, but it was probably whatever he wants to order because Allura types some things into the computer, gives Keith another smile, and then gives Shiro her full, undivided attention. Shiro orders and then they both stand aside as they wait. Shiro signs something to Keith and Keith nods his head and says something back. Lance wonders curiously why Keith doesn’t just sign back. Maybe this Shiro guy can give signs better than he can read them?

“Is that him?” Pidge whispers into his ear making him jump. He glances at his friends and sees they’re both looking towards the counter.

He nods. “Keith is the shorter one with the mullet. The other guy, if I heard his name right is Shiro.”

Hunk’s brows furrow in concentration. “I think I’ve seen that guy before. He hangs around with some of the upperclassmen in the business college. Hard to forget someone so memorable.” Hunk was referring to the fact that Shiro had both a scar that ran horizontally across his nose and white bangs. At this distance, Lance couldn’t be sure if the scar was real or cosmetic, but the white hair had to be dyed. No one had naturally white bangs.

“Yeah, I’m sure as hell not gonna forget him. I must admit. The scar and hair don’t make him look any less like a god in human skin.” Lance said as he watched Allura hand Keith and Shiro their drinks and pastries. She signed something to them both and the both replied in kind. Okay, he had to learn sign language when they get back.

“Careful there, you’re drooling.” Pidge said as she watched Lance watch Keith.

For a second he almost believed her. “Ha, ha. Funny.” He joked, but it came out tenser that he intended. Shit, his hands are sweating so much and could his heart beat any faster? The answer was yes. As Keith and Shiro turned to find a table, Keith met Lance’s gaze and he frowned. Whelp, so much for the element of surprise.

~*~

What the hell is that guy doing here? I thought as my gaze landed on the one person, in the entire universe, I didn’t want to see. Was the guy following him or something? Keith thought back to all the other times he and Shiro had come to this little café and he couldn’t remember see the guy here. So yeah, the guy was a stalker. Just great.

Shiro must have seen me glaring because he signed **What’s wrong?**

“Nothing.” I snapped and marched off in the opposite direction of where Mr. Stalker was seated.

Shiro gave me that look that said he didn’t believe me for even a second, but he didn’t push things. He probably thinks he’ll get an answer out of me later. Jerk.

I take a seat at one of the tables close to the door, which I don’t like to do. People were apt to try to talk to me when I sit near the front. They try to make small talk, which I normally can’t keep up with. Or they ask me to do something, which I don’t understand. Most of the time I either have to explain to them that I’m hard of hearing, which is annoying or they assume I’m asshole who’s purposefully ignoring them and they get angry, which is also annoying.

Shiro gives me a questioning look as he takes his seat at the table and asks me if I’m certain this is where I want to sit. I nod. The farther I can get from Mr. Stalker, the better. Unfortunately, Mr. Stalker doesn’t share my feelings. There’s a tap on my shoulder and when I turn around there’s Mr. Stalker looking all sheepish and shy. Gross.

He mumbles something I don’t understand. I hate it when people mumble. Their lips hardly move and it’s nearly impossible to tell what someone’s saying. It’s super annoying. “Don’t mumble. I can’t understand you. And look at me when you speak.” I snap. I just want to see what Mr. Stalker has to say, let the guy get everything off his chest so I can tell him to stay the hell away from me and I can go back to my normal, “quiet” life.

The guy’s eyes widen a fraction and he blushes. He mumbles something that kind of looks like an apology. At least that’s what his facial expressions tell me. I turn to Shiro and he signs, **He said “Sorry.”** I nod and sign back **That’s what I thought. He keeps mumbling.** I roll my eyes and Shiro gives me a sympathetic smile.

I turn back around and see Mr. Stalker watching us sign with a confused expression on his face. So, the creeper doesn’t know ASL then. “What do you want?” I snap again.

His attention narrows back in on me and he says, “…wanted… apologize… was… jerk…ask…forgiveness.” I hate reading lips.

I turn back to Shiro. **He wanted to apologize because he was acting like such a jerk and he wanted to ask for your forgiveness.**

I turn back to Mr. Stalker and raise my eyebrow, giving him an ‘I’m waiting’ look. He swallows nervously and then clumsily signs **sorry**.

My annoyance spikes. Was he really such a jerk that he’d make fun of a deaf person, really? I’ve had enough with people for the day and I stand up, give the guy my coldest glare, tell Shiro bye, and stomp away. I’ll just go back to my dorm and draw, since I’m not gonna have any peace here. I look back as I walk out the door and I almost feel bad for the guy, he’s standing in the same spot with a really confused and sad look on his face. Serves him right.

~*~

Lance stare at the door as it closes behind Keith. What the hell did he do? All he was trying to do was apologize and the guy acted like I’d just insulted him. I turn to the guy still sitting at the table, Shiro, and ask, “I just made the sign for sorry, right? I didn’t sign something insulting, did I? God, if that girl on YouTube’s teaching people to insult people in sign language, I’m gonna leave a really nasty comment.”

Shiro laughs and Lance can’t help but notice that his whole face brightens as he does so and that his teeth are absolutely perfect. “No, you signed it right. A little clumsy, but I could tell what you meant so I know Keith did too.”

Lance sighed, a weight lifts momentarily off his shoulders, but then he’s just even more confused. “Wait, then why the hell was he so mad. Can’t he just accept someone’s apology like a normal person.”

“Well, he’s not a normal person.” Shiro says quietly. He gives Lance a sad look. “Most of the time, Keith doesn’t bother communicating with other people. He’s really awkward, you see, and so he probably thought you were making fun of him.”

Lance’s brows knit together in confusion. “Great. So, when I try to apologize, he thinks I’m a jerk. If I don’t apologize, then I’m definitely a jerk. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

Shiro laughed again. “What’s your name?”

“The name’s Lance.”

“So, I’m guessing you’re the guy who ruined Keith’s painting, huh? I gotta admit. The way Keith described you, I honestly didn’t expect you to come and apologize.”

“I guess he didn’t tell you that I already apologized for ruining the painting, he just didn’t accept it. I came here today to apologize for how I acted that day. I was kind of a jerk.” Lance took over Keith’s vacated seat.

  Shiro nodded knowingly. “I figured as much when he was telling me about it. He has a hard exterior sometimes, but he’s a pretty nice guy once you get to know him. I appreciate the lengths you’ve gone to in order to apologize. I’ll try talking to him tonight. Maybe I can talk some sense into him.”

Lance’s eyes sparkled at Shiro’s words. “Really? You’ll do that for me? Why?”

“I think you’ll be good for him. Keith doesn’t have very many friends. I’m hoping you can crack that shell of his open and get him out of his comfort zone.”

~*~

I put my pencil down as I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out and see a text from Shiro.

_Shiro: You up? Want to chat?_

I type a quick reply and turn on my laptop. I see the message box pop up at the bottom of my screen telling me I have an incoming video call from Shiro. I click answer and a grainy picture of Shiro appears on my screen.

**Hi. What are you up to so late at night?**

I glance at the clock on my desk and roll my eyes. “It’s not even eleven yet. You sound like an old man.”

Shiro laughs. God, I miss being able to hear his laugh. **Got time to talk about something?**

“If I didn’t I wouldn’t have answered your call.”

Shiro smiles wider. **True. About what happened in the coffee shop today…**

I shake my head and I feel a scowl forming just thinking about that jerk. **I don’t want to talk about it.**

Shiro frowns and gives me his signature dad face. **Oh, come on, Keith. You know that guy wasn’t making fun of you right? He was sincerely trying to apologize. Why don’t you just give him a chance?**

I cross my arms over my chest and huff. Deep down I know I shouldn’t have gotten mad. The guy obviously didn’t know any signs, so that meant he’d purposefully learned how to say sorry just so he could apologize to me in a way he knew I would understand. But, I’d be damned if I admitted that I was wrong so easily. “He’s a jerk. Why do you care?”

**I talked to him and some of his friends that were there after you stormed out. Lance is actually a pretty nice guy.**

“Maybe if you look past all that self-righteous attitude he has and that infuriating way he just always assumes he’s right.” This is just making my mood worse.

**Yeah, well, nobody’s perfect. You’re not the easiest person to get along with either. Anyways, I just wanted to ask you to maybe give the guy another chance. He really wants to make up for how he acted and maybe even get to know you better.**

“Why do you have to always act like my dad? Sticking your nose into my business.” I grumble, but there’s no heat behind my words.

Shiro gives me this knowing look. **Because I care, and believe it or not, I think Lance does too. Give the guy another chance, and try to keep an open mind. I think you guys would make great friends.**

I sigh. Shiro can be like a dog with a bone, never letting go until he’s gotten what he wants, but then I’m the same way. “Fine. One last chance. But I make no promises besides the fact that I’ll meet with the jerk. You got a time and a place?”

Shiro blinks owlishly at me for a moment and then shakes his head. **We didn’t really think that far ahead. I just told him I would talk to you. I’ll give you his number and you can set something up with him.**

Shiro pulls out his phone and my phone vibrates again.

  _Shiro: Lance McClain 945-555-2431_

“Thanks.” I say, the words practically dripping with sarcasm that Shiro pretends not to notice.

**Welcome. Text him tonight, before you chicken out. Night.**

“I’m not gonna-“ I snap but before I can finish yelling, Shiro’s hung up the video call. Who’s the real chicken here?

The answer is, I am. I’m the chicken who can’t even text one guy to set up a meeting that probably won’t go very well. I stare at my phone for a while trying to build up the courage to text this Lance guy.  I sigh. Why does life have to be so damn complicated?

 


End file.
